Sunday, December 26, 2010

I wrote earlier in the day that I had escaped the traveling problems others had been experiencing. Yup, I jinxed myself.

Flight canceled - but not because of the snow, but because the Delta jet had mechanical problems. But since flights into Memphis were canceled left and right, I was lucky to be re-routed for a late-night flight, after a nice, long layover in Charlotte.

Yeesh.

So this means I will not be at the Peabody Hotel later when Mark Richt was supposed to meet with the media. I'm assuming this will still happen, even though a) the coaches' charter flight out of Athens was delayed a couple hours, and b) they really can't hold a press conference without me. But they're going to anyway.

(I've also informed UGA that Jordan Love is in the same boat as me. I haven't seen him since our flight was canceled, so I'm not sure if he got a better re-routing, or is planning on hitch-hiking to Memphis.)

In the meantime, I've got a book to read ("The Nightmare Years, 1930-1940," by William Shirer), and a few people I can call and annoy. Otherwise, it's time to ... er, kill time.

So if you've got a good joke - clean or dirty - feel free to amuse me. (But not too dirty).

WASHINGTON, D.C. - The first time I was ever at this airport, formerly National Airport and now Reagan National Airport, was when I was four years old. My parents and I were moving to Spain, and my grandmother snapped a picture of me staring out the window, enraptured by airplanes and the life ahead.

I’m doing that again, staring out the windows, perhaps the same one, but this time I’m headed to Memphis. And I’m blogging about it. Back in 1980, I don’t think they had blogs. And Ronald Reagan wasn’t even President yet.

But they did have snow, which has wrecked havoc on travel plans throughout the Southeast. Knock on wood, I’ve escaped that, though there are some flurries here in D.C., we've already been delayed, and each minute that we don’t board I get a bit worried.

(I also get flashbacks to the second “Die Hard” movie, which was set at the other Washington airport. If I see a security officer who looks like Dennis Franz, I’m bailing.)

In any event, the trek to Memphis is in full gear today for Georgia players, coaches, staff and media. In contrast to other trips, the Bulldogs are on their own for this one, and will meet up for the first time in Memphis.

A lot of players are flying out of Atlanta today, at least whenever the weather will allow. Guys like Aaron Murray, leaving from sunny Tampa, are luckier. I’m told the coaches are flying together, while at least one official I spoke to on Sunday morning was driving, after barely getting out of his icy Athens sub-division.

I ran into Jordan Love, a native of Virginia who’s on my flight. He was wearing gray Georgia sweathshirt and sweat pants, so I felt safe in saying, “Liberty Bowl?” He laughed and said “yeah,” and then, since we were in an airport bathroom, quickly went our separate ways because men tend to feel very awkward conversing in airport bathrooms. (Unless you’re Larry Craig.)

Well I better run, because they've just made an announcement about another delay ... Good times ...

Once we’re all there, it should be a good time. As always, check here for news updates, as well as general impressions, anecdotes and all that other good stuff.

Thanks, but for the record all the signage I see here (and the Wi-Fi name) still say Reagan National.

Besides, having flown out of this place as a kid more times than I can remember, it'll always just be National to me. And that's not a political statement - I'll feel the same way 20 years from now when they try to rename Dulles after Clinton or Obama. (Ducking.)

I let out a chuckle about the Die Hard comment, touché my friend. Hopefully you'll be able to sit next to Mr Love on the flight and get an inside scoop. Also, to the casual fan, it is funny to thing that you spoke to mr love in the men's bathroom.. Weird. Haha

If I was President, or held any position in society in which people felt the urge to name an airport after me, I would have to decline. Airports are miserable. Flights cancelled, flights delayed, lost luggage, long lines, overpriced and undercooked food, etc. Bobby Kennedy got a football stadium named after him. That's the way to go.

An Englishman, a Scotsman, and an Irishman walk into a pub together. They each buy a pint of Guinness. Just as they are about to enjoy their creamy beverages, a fly lands in each of their pints and gets stuck in the frothy head.The Englishman pushes his beer away in disgust.The Scotsman fishes the fly out and continues drinking as if nothing happened.The Irishman also picks the fly out of his drink, but then holds it out over the beer and yells, "Spit it out! Spit it out, you little bastard!".

An Auburn, Tennessee and a Alabama student were all having lunch together on a bridge outside Birmingham. The Auburn student opens his lunch box and says, "A hotdog again! if i have to eat one more hotdog i'm going to jump off this bridge!"The Tennessee student then opens his lunch box and exclaims, "Salad again! if i have to eat salad one more time i'm going to jump too!"Lastly the Bama student opens his lunchbox and complains, "Peanut butter and jelly! if i get peanut butter and jelly one more time i'm going to end it all too!"The next day the Auburn student finds another hotdog and jumps... the Tennessee student got salad again and threw himself off the bridge too... finally the Bama student finds peanut butter and jelly again and jumps to his demise as well.Later when the three mothers were grieving the Auburn mother cries, "If i had only known he didn't like hotdogs," and the Tennessee mother cried, "I thought salad was good for him." The Bama mother then exclaimed, "I don't understand... he fixed his own lunch!"

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About the Author

Seth Emerson has been covering the SEC and Georgia (on and off) since 2002. He worked at the Albany Herald from 2002-05, then spent five years at The State in Columbia, S.C., covering South Carolina. He returned to Athens in August of 2010, only to find that David Pollack and David Greene were no longer playing for the Bulldogs. Adjustments were made.

Emerson is originally from Silver Spring, Md., and graduated from Maryland in 1998 with a degree in journalism and a minor in getting lost on the way to practically everywhere. Then he spent four years at The Washington Post, covering small colleges, a couple NCAA basketball tournaments, and on one glorious day, was yelled at by Tony Kornheiser. It was probably at The Post that he also learned to write in the third person.

These days he lives in Athens with his beloved and somewhat wimpy dog, Archie. Together they fight crime at night in northeast Georgia, except on nights there is no crime, in which case they sit at home, sip on white wine and watch reruns of "Mad Men."